Straight Edge And On The Edge
by Heel Princess
Summary: Cm Punk/Oc....she was down on her luck, and he was an old friend. Who better to pick her up when she was crumbling? M for safety and review please


**Hey guys, ive been sitting on the begining of this fic for a while, and now that ive finished up 3 of my 5 fics ive decided to finally start this one. Even though he didn't win in the poll it was close and I decided to go with my gut and make Cm Punk the main love intrest in this. But I do need another love intrest for her so in your review you can also leave a sugesstion for him...hope you all like and review please and thank you :)**

She was a long way from home as the cool February air hit her in the face, making her tears seem icy as they rolled down her porcelain features. The raven haired woman sat there on the curb of the busy street, unsure of what exactly to do with herself. She wasn't sure of anything anymore, and the only thing that she knew for certain was that she was crying again, without any real reason. It just seemed to be a force of habit as of late, it almost made her laugh because it was actually rather ironic, the fact that her parents had stuck her with a name like Willow and here she was... weeping.

There wasn't anything to do but to pick herself up, dust herself off, and keep walking. There was no where to go, nothing to do, so she decided to just keep moving until she stumbled upon a new adventure.

Willow scuffed along the side walk, kicking stray stones as she went, avoiding the cracks like a school yard child on there way home from their last class of the day. It wasn't like she had a mother whose back she would break by touching the broken concrete...but she stepped carefully anyway. Stuff like that didn't stop her; routines were all she had anymore, because the poor girl didn't have anyone.

All she had to her name was a couple of hundred dollars that her grandmother left her in her will, the laptop under her arm and the beaten up backpack full of a few changes of clothes. That was it, her entire world condensed down into one bag.

She assumed that the insurance would come through, and she would get unemployment for a while, but she had no idea where she would stay, or what she would do when the governments help dried up. It wasn't like she had much to begin with, but at least three days ago she had a warm place to sleep at night. How she longed for the tiny apartment, it was the one place where she could shut out the stupid world and contemplate whatever she wanted in the quiet. Now thanks to some sleazy stripper she had lost that, her safe haven, her grandest possession.

The bleach blonde bimbo lived in her building, she was a slender thing, small enough that she was either a crack attack or bulimic...Willow put her money on both. Her hair always seemed dirty and she had a piece of crap tattoo, the kind that looked like it was done with ink and a syringe in a dimly lit bathroom, of the word love on her neck. Like she knew what love meant, people like that don't know the meaning of love...that's why they whined up being strippers in the first place, because their emotionally crippled.

That kind of filthy life leads to nothing but heartbreak and herpes; the blonde once again probably had both. And her scum bag of a boyfriend, some ex con turned pimp type...the guy who probably gave her the crotch creatures, was the one who torched the apartment building.

The way the cops explained the whole fiery fiasco was that she broke up with him for her boss down at the magic lantern lounge. He completely flipped out, cussed her out a few times, beat up her sleaze ball employer and then finally when he gave up trying to get her back....he drove up to fifty first street when she was working her shift on Tuesday and poured gas all over her floor and lit a match.

But being the uneducated moron he was he forgot to think of a way to get out after he set the place a blaze and the fire department had to save him, thus landing him in a par of cuffs being hauled off for a long sentence on arson charges.

And that's the whole fucked up story, that's how the charcoaled outcast wound up beating the streets of Boston. How she wound up alone is a whole other story...

"Excuse me mame are you ok?" A voice bellowed from behind her.

She pushed her palms to her eyes wiping away the tears, the last thing she wanted or needed was pity from a perfect stranger. But turning her head to address him she was met with the eyes of someone who wasn't a stranger at all, in fact it was someone she knew all too well, "Phil?" She asked questioningly, locking her green eyes with his, "Phil Brooks?"

Willow watched as he looked at her intently for a moment, trying to figure out if he knew her, and suddenly it seemed to click, "Willow?"

A smile washed over her face, "I just can't believe it."

He looked stunned as he ran a hand back through his hair, which was now as black as hers, before extending a hand to help her up. "Differently didn't expect to see you, my god how long as it been, twelve years?"

She nodded, "Yeah something like that," The woman offered, smiling at the site of his nails which were painted black.

"So what are you doing here?"

Her head titled to the side, unsure of what he meant. "I still live in Chicago."

Phil laughed, "No I mean sitting here on the curb by yourself?"

The raven haired woman shrugged her shoulders, "I dunno, nothing else to do I guess, no where better to go..."

Reaching out he touched her arm, "You live on the street?" He asked, concern clear in his voice.

She shook her head, "No, not exactly...I had an apartment...but long story short it burned down."

"You're kidding."

Her feet scuffed along as she found that they were walking along the street together, "Afraid not." She responded, pausing for a moment before turning the conversation, "But enough about my shitty luck, what are you doing here."

"Well I still live here Chicago to, but I travel a lot, luckily the show is here tonight..."

Confusion washed over her face, "Show? Did you join a band?"

He chuckled, "You don't watch a lot of tv do you?" And when she shook her head no he continued, "I'm a professional wrestler now for the wwe, the biggest promotion in north America."

"Wow," She said softly, "You actually accomplished your dream..."

Another laugh spilled over his lips, "What about you? Ever make it to the best sellers list?"

It was her turn to laugh, "Nope, just been scraping by working for local newspapers." She responded, startled to find his arm around her shoulder.

"You'll get there." He told her, "I know you will."

She flashed him another smile, "Thanks."

"But right now how about I take you to the show as my guest, it will give you something to do..."

Her eyes fell to the ground, "I dunno..." She replied, feeling uncertain about taking anything from him.

"Come on..." He pushed, "You're Joey's little sister and what kind of friend would I be to him or you if I left you here on the street. Besides we have a lot to catch up on, just say yes already Willow, because you know me well enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

Sighing at him she agreed, "Ok fine..."

He squeezed his grip on her tighter, "Excellent."


End file.
